


Taking Less Than You Need

by grimandfatalistic



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternative to Trespasser, Angst, Confession, F/M, Lover - Freeform, Romance, Solas Spoilers, elven pantheon - Freeform, lets pretend that never happened shall we, too depressing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-30 00:54:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6401257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimandfatalistic/pseuds/grimandfatalistic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following the end of the base Inquisition game, Inquisitor Lavellan goes out on her own to make use of her skills and help those people that she can. Despite being careful she ends up in a unavoidable situation, with a seemingly unavoidable person. Solas deals with trying to continue his mission but finds it difficult. The elven pantheon step in and try to change the tides to their favor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Since the World is Our Coffin

The Emerald Graves was filled with noise, but noise that made everything seem silent. The noises of birds chirping and small animals skittering on the ground were welcomed with the occasional bustle of the trees. Ara was perched on one of the tall oak trees that rooted into the soil. The soft chirps the nugs made when running around on the terrain below made the forest more serene than it should. 

Ara was continuously jerking awake throughout the entire night. She was concerned what would happen if she entered the fade, and even more so if someone or something crept up on her earthly body. Each time her eyes became heavier with the weight of sleep, each time harder to stay awake than the last. Beside her sat a staff and a bow she crafted when she was still with the Inquisition. Ara had learned that magic wasn’t always the best tool to fight with. An arrow was quiet and deadly and would draw less attention than bolts of lightning and shards of ice. Sera had given her a few pointers on how to use a bow, but her instructions were as clear as a thunderstorm cloud. Ara crafted the bow after her clan was wiped out, a symbol of remembrance. It was made of ironbark and engraved in it was the usual story of Fen’Harel and his betrayal of the other gods. Ara had mixed feelings about the stories told of Fen’Harel after assuming the position of Inquisitor. Stories may be told of her that would be far from the truth when everyone who lived through Coryphaeus’ plan was long dead. Her motives in choosing the engraving were out of custom rather than desire.

The sun peaked over the curve of Thedas, allowing Ara to let her muscles relax. She was the lone wolf once more, just like when she was in the clan. Ara was not anti-social but never felt strong bonds between any of her clan-mates. She frequently lived her weeks in the forest on a tree branch just like she was doing even now. The Inquisition had been different, everyone seemed to have the desire to follow her through any battle, and more friendships were built in Skyhold than any time in her life. But since the dangers of the world had been resolved, at least for a time, Ara went back to where she felt most comfortable, the forest. She was tracking slavers, rogue Templars, renegade mages, and everything in between. Contracts would be completed, but there was no one to claim the reward. Ara had become something of a legend and even appearing in cities had become a difficulty for her. Everyone wanted to meet the Herald of Andraste, the slayer of Corypheous, but she just wanted to be a lone elf, wanted to be Nehnan’Ara.

Her targets were approaching; Templars who still held grudges against the freedom Ara had given to the mages. The red Templars had no coerce in Thedas any longer, without a leader they crumbled and without a source of Red Lyrium, they died out. No, these Templars were not part of that faction, but that didn’t make them any less of a threat to the mages. 

The lot of them wore black armor with a darker Templar enigma on the breastplate. Their helmets were more customized than that of other Templars Ara had seen throughout the Graves. They were the same black iron that the rest of their mail was made out of except they were covered in spikes of lyrium, glowing blue and brightly especially when the sun glimmered on the crystals. The leader was walking in the pinnacle position of the group, right in the middle. Two Templars on all his sides making for a total sum of nine highly trained warriors Ara had to defeat.

Sleep still pressed down on Ara’s shoulders as she continued to think of a plan to wipe out the Templars. Self-consciously grabbing her bow, Ara strung an arrow and pointed it at one of the Templars heads.  The horse-hair became more and more tense the harder Ara pulled back on the string. The arrow parted the air with a ‘whisp’ noise trailing from behind. One Templar tried to regain his balance before his body collapsed to the ground, an arrow in his forehead. Ara threw her cloak over her head, and drew energy from the fade to become invisible. She skidded down the tree, bark eating through her thin cloak, until her feet hit slammed the ground. A small ‘clink’ sounded from the ground as Ara had landed. 

She frantically grasped at her neck and then chest to confirm her suspicion at what had made the sound.  “Why does everything have to be green?” Ara whispered angrily under her breath as she pawed for the lost object. Seconds seemed to turn into hours, the pendant was surely lost. It was a pendant that was a gift Solas had given her, said to wear around her neck, for then all the People would protect her. The Templars were searching for their companion’s assassin, which gave Ara time to pass her fingers through the blades of glass to find the necklace.  Her fingers came upon a cool feeling of metal; she tugged at it until the intertwined necklace came free of the mess of shrub. Ara’s breathing began to become more rhythmic and relaxed. She leaned against the base of the tree and cupped her ear to listen more intently to the Templars. They were still rummaging through the bushes, searching the sky and dark corners that the forest still bore.  Ara pulled the bow that was slung over her shoulder out of its position and began to search for another Templar as a target. She peered around the thick trunk only for one of the Templars to catch an eye of her.

“Sonuvabitch! A knife-ear?” the Templar exclaimed as he picked his shield off of his back. Ara’s eyes froze into place, her hand grasping for her staff. _Fenhedis, it’s up in the tree still._ She thought as she laced another arrow into the bow. The Templar blocked the arrow and continued to charge at Ara. She whisked around only to find more Templars coming after her with swords, and a few others behind drawing from their lyrium. Ara called upon the anchor to allow herself to use its power to avoid her complete slaughter. It didn’t work. The Templars were drawing too much magic from their deposits of lyrium. Ara pushed herself off the ground and started running, only to meet her killer. The giant Templar, obviously who had taken too much lyrium, stood in front of her and pushed her to the ground. Ara couldn’t call upon any magic to save her, she looked up, paralyzed. The sword the Templar was carrying was slowly coming towards her and with that, 

Ara’s mind went black.


	2. Can't Get No Worse

First her thoughts came back to her. She was dreaming, but she wasn’t in the fade. 

“Is this the Beyond?” Ara asked of the nothingness. She received no reply.  Second, her hearing came back. It was quiet, more so than the forest Ara remembered. Nothing stirred, not even the slightest noise came from the trees whistling in the wind. Third, her touch reclaimed her body. Wiry linens rubbed against her skin, they were warm but she felt her flesh freezing beneath them. Fourth, her sense of smell came back. The aroma of food filled her nostrils, unfamiliar but still, a smell that reminded her of the past. 

Ara’s senses left her in a rush but the unknown nothingness she thought to be the Beyond dissipated. Black turned to green, and soon the Fade flourished with Ara’s dreams. The dreams seemed to stretch decades at a time, but Ara and the figures in her dreams did not age respectively with the time that had passed.

All at once, her dreams left her and the real world burned into her senses. Her eyes didn’t flicker open; they snapped open, blinding her as the light hit her pupils. Recovering from the brightness of the real world, Ara’s eyes searched the room for clues as to where she was. Her mouth opened to say words but she couldn’t make her vocal cords collide. 

Next, Ara tested her body as she tried to sit up. Each movement she made caused her bones to ache and scream in pain. Giving up, Ara rag-dolled back into the bed making the weak iron frame cry as the tension increased. The noise gave Ara enlightenment to yet another presence in the stone structure. Soft footsteps hit the terrain outside, closing in on the archway into the room where Ara lay. Her eyebrows drew together, trying to make sense of the figure. 

The sun was too bright for her sensitive eyes and Ara couldn’t tell who, or what was approaching her. She desperately searched for words to warn the figure but the only sound that left her mouth was a crackle deep within her throat.  The figure gave her a comforting, yet terrifying reply, “Henin.”  It whispered.

Ara scanned the room with her eyes once more, looking around the figure. Beside her was a table. It was eloquent, well decorated and made out of white-wood. On the surface of the table lay a stack of books and…

The pendant that was once around Ara’s neck was shattered. It lay, broken and colorless, on the white-table. The pieces were all accounted for but the once green glass was now shards of black. Ara tried to move her arm to reach out for the broken amulet, but her attempts were futile. The figured closed the distance between them, this time allowing his true self to come into view. 

“At this rate your recovery will be fruitless. Lying still will let your body repair itself much faster. Now please, stay still.” the familiar voice cooed. Fury ran through her veins making her once cool flesh, turn into boiling water.  _ Why in Creators-I mean why in the name of Arlathan is Solas here? _ Ara thought still being unable to speak.  His face was unreadable, as always, and he showed no signs of sympathy or disapproval. Ara’s eyes squinted in apathy toward the elf. Solas and Ara both stared into each other eyes with differing emotions, internally have a conversation with one another. Solas broke the contact first and began drifting towards another room. 

A few minutes later he brought back one bowl filled with a type of stew. It was the same aroma that Ara had smelled when she first regained consciousness. He grabbed her back and gently sat her up into a position where she could swallow properly. Solas gave her spoonfuls of the herb soup, each gulp made Ara’s bones ache less and retain control of her vocal cords. Sleep soon fell upon Ara once more. Her eyes slowly floating closed. All her senses left her once more, except for one. Just before Ara lost total consciousness, she felt someone sweeping their hand through her hair; then gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spooky! Haha as always thanks for reading and leave any comments on inconsistencies thanks xxx


	3. I Told You I Would Stay

This time, Ara woke full of energy, she had regained the ability to move around and lift her arms. Her hands darted towards the end-table where the broken pendant still lay. She draped its silver chain across her chest, analyzing it with complete focus. She looked up to search for Solas, to her disappointment he was nowhere in sight. Ara prepared herself to use her voice, to her surprise her mouth let out a small “Solas…” that sounded more like a noise from a squeaking nug than his name.

With no response, Ara threw the covers off of her chest, while still clutching the silver chain. Slowly, she got to her feet only to realize that her femur bone was piercing through her skin. Ara almost threw-up. Her teeth gritted together forming a horrendous sound. _How am I supposed to walk when I am like this,_ Ara thought desperately searching for answers. 

She called out to Solas another time, her voice a bit stronger than it was before. Ara waited some time before Solas finally arrived to her bidding. 

“Fenhedis vhenan, what were you thinking?” scoffed the elf. Ara cleared her throat, “I didn’t know it was this bad.” She looked up at the tall elf, wandering his face for help. 

“Of course it’s this bad; otherwise I would have just healed it with magic.” He looked at where Ara’s leg had been severely ruptured. Solas took a deep breath, “At least you have regained your voice, now you can inform me when you require attention rather than me blindly guessing.” He knelt down to examine the bone. Solas ran his palm over the injury dulling the pain. He grabbed a few white cloths from the end-table’s drawer. Ara felt his hand wrap around her own, squeezing it tighter and tighter. 

“This is going to hurt, lethallan,” his voice trailed off and left Ara in complete agony. Solas had forced the bone back into place and Ara was grimacing in pain, holding back the tears that tried to burst out of her eyes. She let out a wavering sigh, Solas had not let go of her hand and tensed it each time he thought Ara was going to let a tear fall. 

“Can I walk?” gasped Ara her eyes now focusing on Solas’ face. “Not without some form of support, let’s see.” Solas released his grip from Ara’s hand and began to wander the stone structure in search of a crutch. “Here,” Solas extended his arm giving Ara a wooden broom as her new means of walking around “this should suffice.”

“Wait, Solas.” Ara said snatching the broom from his grasp. “Where am I? Why are you here? Why is my pendant broken? This is too much, I need-I need to go back. You-you…” Ara scrambled to get words to come out, but instead she found herself, eyes pressed against the palms of her hands.  A silence fell upon them for quite some time. Ara was confused to whether Solas was at a loss for words or he was waiting for Ara to break the silence that lie between them. 

“Why vhenan?” Ara asked of Solas. “Why do you still insist on calling me that?” Solas wouldn’t meet her eyes, the tension grew ten-fold and Solas would still not answer her questions. "Why is my pendant broken, Solas?” Ara questioned him once more.  Still focusing on another object in the room, Solas responded to her “It was the only way I could protect you without physically being with you or you with me.” His face, once firm lined and course, had become soft and sympathetic. 

“And…” he continued “that will likely answer one or more of your former questions, will it not?”

Ara soon came to realization that she must have been carrying a piece of him, or a portal around when she wore the necklace. “So you’ve been with me the entire time?” Ara said letting her voice relax a bit more.

“No, but rather I channeled a small fragment of the fade into the glass crystal. This would allow me to assist you no matter the distance.” Solas retorted. Everything had been clearing up inside Ara’s mind, but she still had no concept of her location. “Where are we?” she asked.

“A long forgotten temple, one of the People’s” he began. His eyes filled with memories of something Ara couldn’t comprehend. “Do you wish to stand?” he asked quietly of her. Ara shook her head and tried to prop herself on the broom. Failed attempt after another made Solas intervene. He slung her arm over his shoulder and allowed Ara to put her entire weight on him. A few steps at a time she could move around the structure. Now all she had to do was walk without Solas helping her. “Now vhenan, try it again with the broom. I will be here.” Solas stood back and collapsed his hands behind his back searching intently for Ara to begin testing the make-shift crutch. With no mishaps, Ara managed to limp her way around the room she was in using only the broom. She could now tend to her own needs, when and where she needed to. However, she was in no condition to go out into the forest alone.


	4. All My Little Plans and Schemes

Solas watched her intently as she continued to persevere through the pain she must have been enduring. He flipped his plans again and again in his head, trying to figure out how to continue without Ara finding out his intentions. He wanted to tell her, he truly did, but that just was not an option. Solas needed to find an alternative source to draw mana from, since his orb had been destroyed.

                Ara slumped back down onto the bed. Solas carefully walked over to her and sat on the edge of the mattress with her. “Vhenan,” Solas breathed where his voice was only audible to the person sitting next to him, his voice to only be heard by Ara. “I still have-there are accommodations that I must bid to and…”

Ara had grabbed him by the jaw and drew him close to her lips, a breaths distance away. Solas almost let the trap catch him, but instead he pulled away. “And I need you to stay here while I finish them.” He ended.  Solas looked back into Ara’s eyes seeing only remorse and guilt. She agreed to stay at the temple until she could fully walk on her leg again, but only barely. There was struggle in her voice when she replied yes. Solas was unsure if it was from the lack of voice she had or because her feelings were bleeding through.

He almost reached out for her. That was the new concept Solas was struggling with, the action of ‘almost.’ Everything had been an almost with her. He almost kissed her back, he almost tried to comfort her, he almost told her that he was Fen’Harel.

There had been very few times that he doubted himself so much, his empowerment dwindled with every word Ara spoke, every instance she drew breath. Solas was worried what might become of them if her leg did not recover in a timely manner. He especially couldn’t resist feeling Ara’s, his heart’s, golden hair.

                As Solas got up from the bed he let his fingertips part through her hair. He would always tell himself it was a foolish desire, one that he couldn’t stop himself anymore from acting upon. Solas walked out of the temple and into the wilderness that lay just outside the archway. Everything was shades of green, a color he had always associated with life, and the Fade was no exception of this.

Solas understood why those who lived in this age would believe that the Veil was the only barrier between the ‘real world’ and its complete destruction, but the arguments were academic. The Veil needed to be torn down to restore what once was, even if that meant the deaths of innocents. It was the only way he could regain his power after the orb was destroyed. _You should have never given your orb to Corypheous, Dread Wolf_. Those words haunted him like none other, a mistake that endangered his ability and almost killed…

                “Ara,” Solas called of her “can you meet me outside?” He heard a weak groan as Ara attempted to stabilize herself on the makeshift crutch. He listened to her bare feet skid across the floor, followed by the blunt wooden sound that came from the broom. Ara shielded her eyes from the sun’s rays as she approached Solas. He turned his body to face her, all the while blocking the sun from her eyes.

He situated his body to appear more professional, hands clasped behind him, chest wide, shoulders back, any slight body language that would push Ara farther from him. “I am leaving, vhenan. There will be a sufficient amount of supplies within the temple.” Solas paused trying to articulate his next point. Ara’s eyes widened as she looked up to him, her eyebrows hugging the curve of her blue eyes, with the same passion she had years ago.

Solas broke the gaze and continued “I am unsure to the magnitude of which I can protect you. Have caution, vhenan.” Solas turned to walk away but Ara attempted to grab him. Her hand interlaced with his fingers; there was a brief moment, almost unsubstantial, where Solas let himself feel her skin. _Another selfish desire,_ he thought. 

He slid his fingers from Ara’s and walked away without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> salty solas is new yes? haha who am I kidding


	5. There'll Come a Time When You Regret It

 It had been a few weeks that Ara and Solas had stayed in the temple. Each morning, Solas would leave when it was still dark outside, and each night he would arrive in pitch black. Ara was surprised at how little sleep that he needed. Her leg had repaired itself quite well, but she still had trouble maneuvering herself around besides simply walking on flat ground.

Ara had learned a great quantity of ancient elven vocabulary from Solas’ teachings. On days where he did not leave quite so early, Solas would wake her up and either discuss a situation or give her insight on the ancient elves. He knew so much about them, Ara was astonished by the amount of information Solas could retain. They would occasionally have short conversations in the ancient tongue which brought a smile, perhaps a mere smirk, to Solas’s face.

After the two years they had been apart, their friendship still seemed timeless. Ara’s inquiries would never fail to surprise Solas, and he would never fail to give her answers. The only difference was their intimate relationship. It had diminished a great deal since their time in the Inquisition, Ara was unsure if they could ever get what they had back. None the less, Ara would provoke Solas, trying to inch him towards her one step at a time. If in a good mood, Solas would occasionally wrap his hand around hers. If it was his subconscious initiating the act of love, Ara didn’t know, but she hoped one day she could have more of him than just his hand.

“When are you going to tell me what you do when you leave? It’s been more than two months, Solas.” Ara said tightening her grip on his hand so he couldn’t release.

“I can never tell you, my heart. It is something that I cannot have you become involved with, it would be the downfall of us both.” Solas said dolefully, his gaze still focused on something in the distance. Ara inspected Solas’ body language with her eyes. She would follow every pattern of muscle she could see from underneath his robes. Still without answers, Ara stood on her toes and brought her mouth to his neck, innocently sighing breaths onto his skin.

“I think both of our downfalls happened a long time ago.” Ara whispered hoping to ignite a spark of emotion within Solas. With that he closed his eyes, her efforts had worked. Ara saw Solas sort through responses or actions he could use to respond with. He was always analytical, an attribute that she could only fall in love with. Being daring, Ara circled to Solas’ front and brought her lips to his. This time he didn’t pull away and let her direct him to her will. She pulled away in the tiniest motion to see if he would follow, and when he did she rewarded him with a more passionate kiss than before. Solas parted his lips and withdrew from her, eyes wide open.

“Emm’abelas vhenan, but we have to stop.” His fingers had unraveled from her own and he stepped back creating more empty space between them.  Ara was pleased with herself, but none the less disappointed. Her skin was tinted with passion and yearning. Solas had not broken his gaze from whatever he was so intent on looking at in the distance. Had she really been second to the majority of everything he thought about. His footsteps started to pass her as Solas walked closer to the object that so heightened his interests. “Ara, if you may, would you tell me what you believe that to be?” Solas asked softly of her. His arm stretched out before him, forming an arrow to what had been drawing his attention for so long; a tear in the Veil, shimmering green and frightening wildlife as they bounded near it. Wisps of fade essence withdrew from Ara’s palm as her distance between the tear decreased. Solas’ stride was slightly longer than that of Ara’s and thus put him ahead of the pack.

As the two elves inched closer, a shatter sounded from the shrubs below, causing quite a stir within Solas. “Fenhedis! Telass’ma halathen. Anash! Anash!” cursed Solas. Ara could make out a few of the ancient terms; telass’ma meaning you fool and halathen meaning broken. Where he stood was glass, its reflation invisible due to the intense light that reflected upon its magic, an eluvian. Solas’ face dropped, every line and feature was now stone making Ara step back in repulse.

“We have to fix it.” He grunted echoing his vocal chords against the serene forest. Ara let a noise escape her throat, this lead to the events of Solas repeating his initial reaction. “We must fix it,” he said more sincere than before; his tone low and saddened now rather than fury.

”What about the rift?” Ara asked. Solas shook his head and ran his fingers down the green opening. Ara could feel the tingle of his mana in the anchor as he stroked the Fade’s power. “This eluvian is directly connected with the fade tear above, fix the eluvian and we should be able to,” his voice trailed off and Solas withdrew his thoughts back into his mind to think.

“ **I** should be able to, accomplish what needs to be done.” Ara withdrew her proximity to the elf, the thought that Solas had to correct himself from saying ‘we’ to ‘I’ had scarred her, just a little, inside. “So now it is all up to you, the great Solas.” she said more sarcastically than she felt. Solas darted his eyes from her face responding with a simple “Yes.”

“Don’t forget what you just said, _Hahren_.” Spoke Ara with the curl of her lip.


	6. Perhaps You'll See

The cool of the night crept in. The stone of the temple no longer flickered shimmers of golden light bouncing from the sun. Solas laid head on his leather knapsack next to one of the trees. No one would ever know exactly how old the tree was, everyone except for himself. It had been one of the trees he had told his servants; no they were slaves, to plant in his honor.

Andruil often would etch lines into the tree each time another would follow her, and not him. What simple times it had been to be on top off Thedas and such fickle acts were the majority of the ‘gods’ work load. He wasn’t a god, he didn’t believe it. A higher being? Yes, maybe. But the way Lavellan had called him Hahren, elder, was a knife sunk into his skin. She didn’t say it out of respect; it was a wound to him calling him, ironically better than her. He was nothing better than her.

Ara wanted him to hurt from the formality, and she succeeded. Solas tried to force himself into the Fade but his thoughts were too loud; prodding his mind to think about her more. He was still as selfish as ever, even when he told himself that he must stop. My responsibility comes before desire he would say to himself. Ara just had that effect on people, more importantly him. To keep everything he was from her, all of his goals and secrets was a burden he could only carry for a short amount of time. Ara deserved nothing less than the truth, but she did not deserve to have to follow him on his lone path for eternity. And thus he would die alone, his worst fear. Ara wouldn’t.

No matter the instance, Solas was determined to take in every essence of her body when she would pass, allowing himself to be with her bright and kind spirit until it was lost from time for eternity. _Foolish wolf. You have lost everything; the elvhen, your trustworthiness, your fellow gods, your power, and now you have lost your heart._

Solas had to shake the thoughts from his mind. He sat up and let the soft breeze flow around him, caressing every divot of his body. He floated over to where the broken eluvian lay in the brush. He allowed his fingers to glide across its surface, the two manas’ reacting with each created a small burn on his skin. He let out a small grunt as the magic boiling under his skin dissipated.

He analyzed the stark outline of the tree tops ahead of him. He got up, he had to leave for good, and with Lavellan gone he could focus on his mission. He grabbed his knapsack and silently started his voyage to find an item that would fix the eluvian.

“Solas,” a soft, innocent voice beckoned from behind. Solas paused in his tracks. He closed his eyes in disbelief, scrunched and tight where no light could enter. A long moment of silence fell upon them until Ara inched closer, one bare toe at a time. Solas didn’t dare turn around; he would be forsaken to stay with her if he had. With each leaf that rustled beneath her bare feet, Solas grew an appetite to run away in an instant or turn around and surrender to her whims. “Vhenan,” he breathed unable to compose himself any longer.

“I didn’t mean what I said when I called you Hahren.” She whispered in the abyssal darkness back to him.

“I know.” Solas responded. In fact, he didn’t know. He truly believed that she thought of him in that way the moment she called him that. This had in fact surprised him. Ara was full of surprises, something no one else in his journeys could offer him, and Solas wished he could return the favor.  “Then why are you leaving?” Ara questioned.

This time Solas turned on his heel to face his newfound worst fear, losing her. His knees melted underneath and he was no longer able to convince himself that leaving was the correct path to take. “I could not sleep. I thought exhausting my stamina would allow me to dream better.” the half-truths he would tell her were another series of regrets to put on his list. Each one he told her he would write down; promise himself that he would tell her the entire truth once he had completed his mission. “Then why bring your bag?” she gestured towards the knapsack that was still slung upon his back. Solas’ mind raced for something to respond with, she was becoming too clever for even the God of Tricksters.

He eventually did find a sufficient enough excuse that satisfied all of Ara’s questions which then allowed him to prompt her off to bed. Stubbornly, as always, she insisted on sleeping outside with him that night. She wanted to gaze upon the sky that would put her to sleep, and when the sun arose she would be woken up with the same gentility. Solas had to agree that she made a convincing argument, and regrettably let her sleep under the tree beside him. They whispered each other to sleep, each one exchanging dialogue in the ancient tongue exclusively.

It was a dead language now, and Solas had found a new longing for its grace every instance that Ara and he spoke; she was the revival of the elven superiority wrapped up into one beautiful package.


	7. here it comes/ water down your empty soul

Ara was still becoming accustomed to her newly healed leg and thus when she went out to gather necessities, like food and water, she usually found herself on the ground more times than she could count. Their diet mostly consisted of nugs that would casually wander the forest oblivious to the arrow that was pointed at their heart. And there could never be enough elfroot, at least for Ara.

Solas still journeyed on his unnamable mission, but he did it less often than the first few weeks that Ara stayed with him. He was becoming less agitated and more like his relaxed self when they resided at Skyhold.  His scouting missions were turning up with nothing and he began to think that it was a waste of time to continuously return to Ara instead of committing every second to finding a source of power. Sleep was becoming less of an obsession and Solas found himself wanting to spend every moment that he had while awake with Ara.

Days would to turn to weeks and the two of them often forgot how much time had actually passed. Solas never did forget his duty for the people, but he felt like there needed to be on a hiatus, at least for a short period of time. He stood up from his place of meditation and maneuvered to the side of Ara, gently grabbing her wrists in the same fluid motion.

“Are you doing anything important right now? Would you like to join me on a special trip?” Ara’s eyes brightened with the wonder that they always had when Solas spoke. She nodded agreeingly and Solas started towards the river. It was a large river rushing with fish and filled with bed rocks.

**___________________________________________________________________ water down your empty soul**

The fade was a sanctuary for Solas, his mind could wander and he need not be worried of demons that would try to possess him. The spirits would indulge him in tales of the age, letting him understand the timeframe he was in better, a bleak comparison to the ones that Ara could tell. If only the rest of Thedas could see a spirit’s capability and intellectual thought as he did, then they would surely be considered living beings. While in the fade, Solas’ mind and Mythal’s mind would separate and they would become to completely different entities.

“Dread Wolf, your task is slipping farther from your grasp every night you spend with this shemlen,” the spirit of Mythal said to him. “She is _not_ a shemlen.” he refuted back, the fade shifted and distorted more with the new anger boiling inside of him. He knew if he did not calm down soon, he would attract demons. He let out a sigh, here stood Mythal’s essence in the fade with him and he was in part of Arlathan. It was surreal, too much, and it took much effort and fortitude to compose himself that this was not reality; not really. “I can’t blame you, harellen,” Mythal hissed, “she is everything you always wanted the elves to be, minus the lifespan. But does her beauty make up for that!” she finished laughing at her own joke.

“For a moment there I actually thought you were going to leave.” Solas hesitated to respond, he was going to leave, the mission was more important than Ara or even himself. His reason for staying was clear but Solas couldn’t help but feel the guilt of all his lies, all his selfishness fall into his stomach.  He brought himself to say the words “I did too.” before he was interrupted by a surprise, of course. Solas never thought that Ara could breach his mind while in the fade, but here she was. Mythal eyed up and down Ara and began leaving the area with a light chuckle “Looks like you have another visitor, another time,” she paused narrowing her eyes at Solas “,Pride.”

And with that Mythal was gone, at least for the moment.

“Who was that?” Ara asked. Solas was thankful Mythal’s spirit hadn’t taken her human form in the fade otherwise he would have much to answer for. He beckoned Ara to come near his side, “A spirit of wisdom, she had quite the tales of this place, Arlathan.”

Ara curiously gazed around looking at each intricate elven design that the structure had. They were familiar, closely resembling many of the ancient ruins she had seen on her travels, yet they were in much more detail and had plating of gold and platinum on most of the designs. Ara could understand why Solas always got that glimmer in his eye when he talked about Arlathan, it was more beautiful than anything she could have imagined. “Are you enjoying yourself?” he interrupted her train of thought.

Her fingers were exploring ever crevice that the Fade gave her of Arlathan, taking in every piece of gravel and dust in the air. “It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” Ara replied, “Why didn’t you take me here before?” This made Solas come up behind her, towering over her small frame. “It is something I rarely visit, let alone show people. I usually only come here if I need a boost of persuasion to continue with my mission.” Solas knew that the last statement was going to derive numerous questions from Ara; he needed to be more careful around her she knew his tells better than anyone else in the Thedas. Ara had drawn her attention from the structure and began to wrap her arms around Solas.

Solas closed his eyes, taking in every moment that they had where he could feel her warmth against his body, hear her heartbeat against his chest. The Fade was a place where all his worries dissolved, and thus allowed him to indulge himself easier.

It started out as a soft kiss, but then it evolved into something more passionate than ever before. It had been two years; even in the life of an immortal those two years without her seemed to stretch for eternity. But here she was, her whole body pressed up against him and he felt like there was nothing else in the world.

He had finally lost it.

The masonry he had so finally crafted to hide every secret he possessed started to crumble with each press of Ara’s lips onto his. She was now barefaced and more beautiful than he could have ever imagined possible, and that was what the initial destroyer of his façade was. She whimpered quietly as she drew back. Green light fell upon her perfect skin, and this is when he knew his fall would happen. The corners of his mouth turned down, and his blue eyes began to fog. “I have not been entirely truthful with you, vhenan.”

Ara stepped back, creating some distance between them. Solas knew that she must have suspected as much, but she did not even know the fraction of every half-truth he constructed just for her. He could almost hear Mythal snickering in the back ground, she told him that he would not be able to lie to everyone he met; only now did he see how much she was correct. “Solas, what is it?”

He could feel the tears well up just above his waterline, he knew it wasn’t going to be easy but he certainly did not think it was going to be this hard.

“I am sorry,” he said. Ara must have heard him say that enough times to know it was bad news. Instead of drawing farther from him like he expected her as much to do, she tightened the gap between them and genuinely stared into his eyes, promising him silently to accept anything he had to confess. “I have told you many stories. Those of the ancient elves, their lore, their buildings, _my_ culture.” His voice cracked over the word ‘my’ and still had managed not to let one tear drop from his eyes. “What are you saying?” Ara responded as she brought her fingertips to his jaw, stroking it and causing him to shiver under her touch. 

He grasped her wrist and pulled it from his face; he didn’t want her giving him affection when she didn’t even know who _he_ was. “I have told you about the elven ‘gods’ as you like to call them. I have told you about how I do not believe they are gods but believe they exist.” Curiosity overcame Ara’s face as she began to toy with her own hands rather than Solas’. “You have met Mythal, and you know that the other gods are sealed away because of one divergent ‘god’ that all of the Dalish have nightmares of.” He paused trying to understand what was happening inside of her head, what she was possibly thinking at the moment. Solas himself still could not believe that he was going to tell her, but he was not, could not withdraw from her again.

“The Dread Wolf,” She panted out, it was a question not a statement, but Solas was not ready to answer that. “I have also told you that the Dalish have twisted their stories so far from the truth that it is no longer the truth.” He paused once more, he could feel one tear escape from his eye, “I have also told you that I love you and I need nothing more in this world than to breathe the same air as you.”

“Solas-I” Ara stuttered, she too had streams of tears running down her face. “You are the one who allows me to give you every truth; there is never a lie for you. You change everything, I am no longer the lone elf that lies and deceives. I tell you the truth every day I say the words I have always thought ‘Ar lath ma vhenan.’”

Her head was shaking, her feet carrying her backwards and her hands were up in defense, “No,” she whimpered “no,” she kept repeating it, each time the lines of tears getting more wet from the horrible realization that must have been coming to her.  

Solas didn’t dare follow her in her attempt to distance herself for him, but he didn’t stop telling her what he set out to. “And every time I look at you all of the bad decisions in my life are lifted away. But I must show you how much you mean to me. And the only thing I can give you: the truth.” Ara had collapsed on her knees and sorrowfully looked up at the man she must have had so much hatred for, but she let him have all of her spirit, it didn’t surprise him that her reaction was in such a way. “The name that most people know me by: The Dread Wolf, but my true name: Fen’harel.” Another tear fell from his eyes as he saw Ara’s heart rip in half. She had trusted him and all he had given her was half-truths, a lie that she fell in love with: but for him it was real. “Ir abelas ma’vhenan. Ar lath ma.”

She stood up and raced over to where he stood, fast enough so that he could not see her weeping face. She threw her entire body into his arms, asking for comfort, wanting to be held and consoled. Surprised, Solas stood there with Lavellan crying into his shoulder until he finally came into realization of what was happening. She had accepted him for who he was, even after every story they had told about him, after every reason to hate him and give up on him, Ara was still loyal. “Ir abelas Fen’Harel, Ar lath ma.” She choked out through her tears. His legs gave out on him after hearing his own name on her voice. Both of them came crashing down, sobbing into each other’s arms.

For everything he had done wrong, he got one thing right: her.


	8. Wake Up [piano solo]

Wake Up

Ara could feel her spirit return to her earthly body, but did not open her eyes. She knew all too well that he had the knowledge that she was awake which frightened her even more. Lying in the cold grass under an oak tree used to be something that Ara would do to calm her nerves, clear her mind. However, this was the antithesis of calming her nerves.

The recently formed dew from the grass beaded across her skin made her hairs flare up, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of woolen cloth barely touching her arms. Luckily, he scooted farther away so that the sensation would no longer trouble her. Her thoughts chased each other in accordance with new questions that arose in her mind. Every year of her life she was told to be wary of Fen’Harel, Lord of Tricksters, Betrayer of the Gods, _The Dread Wolf_. Yet here he was, in the flesh, something she could never have dreamed of, or more likely derived nightmares from.

It was more than a miracle to know that her gods actually did exist, unlike the human’s made up maker. But it was far more discerning that they were actually real people; they were just normal elves besides the extended lifespan and force of magic; and one of them loved her. That word choked in her mouth even though she wasn’t even speaking in the first place. It was all a blur from the time that she had entered the fade with him to now. Everything about him changed, he was no longer cute yet fatalistic Solas, he was the beaten and worn Dead Wolf.

The silence between them echoed the forest, no creatures were stirring nor was the wind blowing. Ara so desperately wanted to get away, be it the fade or simply to get up and leave, but the latter would force confrontation from him. Breaking the silence, she heard his lips part and his breath start to falter. “Emma’Fen’Harel, vhenan.”

“Ar dirth.”

“I needed to tell you that outside of the fade.” Their voices fell silent. Ara turned to her side so that her back was faced towards him. She could hear his mouth parting every moment or so, like he had something more to say, but nothing ever came. She could not control her thoughts from storming inside of her conscience; she was not going to get a good night’s rest. Questions about the scenario were the first to arise in her mind. What if she hadn’t accepted him, and instead distanced herself from him for eternity never to speak again.

What if he had used some sort of magic on her that would make her his slave? Why did her tell her then, let alone why did he not tell her sooner or at all? Other questions about her situation as a mortal elf started buzzing in her mind as well. What would have her clan said if they knew, they would probably be frightened or her and claim she was delusional. Her keeper would have been the most disappointed of them all. Being the first, she was eventually going to tell the story of Fen’Harel’s betrayal and how to avoid him at all costs. But the latter paled in comparison to the other realizations that fogged her mind.

She was not just acquainted with the Dread Wolf; she had let him love her on more occasions than she could count. She had fallen in love with what everyone believed to be the most evil god of them all; and in turn apparently he had fallen in love with one of the people who were taught to see him only as monster. It was both cliché and the most frightening of the thoughts that lingered in her mind. He would have never told her if he truly wanted to use her for his own personal gain. The only question left was why had chosen to tell her in the first place; and how would this even work out for them.

Ara clutched the sleeves on her tunic in search of finding a source of comfort to make her feel more secure. A whimper that she did not want to escape, let alone other people hear, crawled up her throat. “Solas,” she choked out holding the tears that were accumulating in her eyes. She realized her mistake in calling him that but he did not correct her. “I’m scared.” Solas repositioned himself against the tree all the while letting out a deep and melancholy sigh. With the silence still hounding her state of mind she continued, “Please talk to me.”

“I am sorry, vhenan. What do you wish of me? I can answer any questions that I am certain you have. But I warn you, they may not be the ones you wish to hear.” She flipped onto the opposite side of her body so that she could sit face to face with the person she was talking to.

Now he just seemed like a foreign man who she had no knowledge of; the strangest feeling after thinking to have known the man for years. But the amount of unknown knowledge she could learn and obtain from him was incomprehensible. So many questions of the ancient elves, the time of Arlathan, the other elven gods, and so much more blazed in her mind. “Well first of all, are there anymore insane secrets you still need to tell me? I would rather get them out of the way now while I am still shell-shocked from your original confession.

There was a brief pause before Solas began to tell his story about the anchor that now cursed Ara with its undying power. Slowly the truths about the entire mission surrounding Corypheous and the elven orb were knitted together and tied at the end with Solas in the middle. His voice trailed off after every sentence. She knew it was not because he didn’t want her to hear the story, but he didn’t to hear the reminders of everything he had gotten wrong, Ara would occasionally reassure him that he was only did what needed to be done at the time, and it was the best idea that would have worked given their situation.

The more he talked the faster she realized that Fen’Harel was more than a misconceptualized god, he was a god who had done everything in his power to make the world as idealistic as possible, but each attempt only strayed him farther from his goal.

Ara slowly shifted her body towards him, Solas, or Fen’Harel or whatever name he wished her to call him by. She pressed her hand against the crown of his head, channeling light sparks through her arm to give him the reassurance that she was there, and this was real. His arms were still limp as she curled into his torso and curling her hands around his waist. “You have undeservedly earned the name Betrayer of all. You are the single person that has given me no reason to believe you would ever betray me or the elven, or most people in general.”

His gaze had still not met her own, sunken eyes narrowing with each word she spoke. “But don’t you see? I have betrayed everything and everyone I meet, myself included. It is one of the most selfish things that I have done, to draw you closer to me rather than letting you have a safe and happy life with who you should be with. I can never forgive myself.” Ara pressed her body further in his, unable to find sufficient words to comfort him. Soon she fell asleep, whereas Solas could not bring his mind to a quiet enough state to escape the truth of the real world. 


	9. Nothing is Real

A weight had been lifted off of his chest, this much he was certain. He was no longer bound to everything in the past, he could freely discuss his real self with Ara as much as he desired. It should have been a victory, but instead it felt like a cold knife in his chest.

The sun soon rose over the crescent of the forest, and with it so did Ara. Bloodshot eyes peeked into the awakening world searching for something that would stabilize her mind. Fen’Harel’s arm was still wrapped around her body from habit, to which he found Ara took great pleasure in seeing.

The day was going to be a long one; full of questions and planning what to do next with his plan considering he did not have to consolidate it with Ara knowing the truth. But the thoughts still pondered his mind: What if she disapproves of my future goals? He did not want to know the answer for the questions, certain that the outcomes would be rather foul. “Good morning. Fen’Harel.” Her voice was smooth, echoing in hear drums was the sound of his own name on her tongue; and it felt bittersweet. “Ara’then.” He said in exchange.

She then proceeded to prod him with questions about his plans for the day; which admittedly he had none. She seemed very eager to want to help him with whatever scheme he was planning and now he could no longer stop her or make excuses that would potentially stop her. Fen’Harel rose to his feet and started towards the eluvinan with the miniscule fade rift floating above it. He pulled Ara by the hand alongside him towards the peculiar thing.

They stared at the objects for quite some time, internally deciding what would be the best course of action to fix the eluvinan. Ara dragged her fade ridden palm against the mirror, channeling old elven magic through it. In response, the mirror’s surface distorted so very slightly what Fen’Harel almost did not notice it at all. “Wait, try that course of action again,” gesturing to her hand and then to the mirror. This time he watched the water-like ripples flow across the metal, he theorized that the mark would be able to open the mirror, but it would require more power. Mythal had not provided him sufficient enough power to pass through the fade like he had hoped, his only true power was trapped in who he held most dear.

He only wondered what would it would have come to if Ara and him were enemies and he still needed to use her for transportation though the fade so that he could take down the veil. He could only thank luck for all it had given him revolving her.

Placing his own hand on top of Ara’s, Fen’Harel channeled his magic through her and into the mark of the rift so that it would have enough mana to open the eluvinan. His speculation was proved correct and the eluvinan was now accessible. This was the first time in months, year’s maybe, that he had actually made any progress towards his goal. Ara gave him a look of curiosity, still confused to what had happened.

Fen’Harel told her the entire story of how these mirrors were used to travel around parts of Arlathan as well as other parts of Thedas. This one was sealed, by his own magic no doubt, so that no one could access it except for he. Ara then directed her attention towards the mark on her hand. Fen’Harel had told her an in-depth story about his orb and the affects it had concerning Corypheous, but he had still not told her that after his sleep, all of his godly power went dormant, and the only way he could get it back was through his orb which was now lost to the soil.

He carefully picked up the mirror, now surging with magical energy, and leaned it up against the oak tree. The tips of his finders distorted the patterns that were forming on its surface and then she began to press his form through the portal. He beckoned Ara to follow him, and both of them left the old ruin and entered a new land. Fen’Harel recognized the architecture immediately; this was his old residence back in the time of Arlathan. It was now crumbles of rock, but some parts of the structure still bore the weight of the years that had passed.

Ara was lost in her train of thought so he had to drag her along by the wrist so that they would not get separated. It was an ominous feeling being in the structure that stood as a reminder of what he destroyed. He refused to let Ara touch any of it so she would never be tainted with his mistakes. Fen’Harel was never a man to be superstitious, but he could never be too careful with Ara. He continued to search every inch of the lot to find another eluvinan that could give him passageway into the fade, but alas it was all for naught. Ara was his only form of transport into the fade, which meant that when she died, so would all his hope in making things the way they used to be. Fen’Harel hated, no, despised with pure and rich hatred that he would have to _use_ Ara for personal gain, but that is what the world and his mistakes had caused him to have to do.

He would somehow have to restore the lifespan that ran in her blood, but was taken away by the dreaded humans. The only thing he could do at the moment was to ask if she would be fine with the extremity of extra life that was going to theoretically bestow upon her. “Vhenan, how would you react if your lifespan was lengthened to the same degree as those elves that lived during the time or Arlathan?” Ara rubbed her face in deep thought, “It is both a blessing and a curse, living for eternity. Why do you ask?” It was a relief that there were no more carefully crafted lies that he had to come up with on the spot in order to conceal his true nature. Fen’Harel explained the situation, a grave one indeed, but Ara needed to hear his dilemma.

His thoughts were strewn, the mask that he had worn for such a long felt out of place when it was removed. His speech patterns were less formulated and the ideas that raced through his mind were not verbally communicated in an eloquent way like they used to. Ara still understood what he was saying, thankfully, but she gave no indication to whether or not she would accept or decline the offer. Unfortunately, Fen’Harel knew that no matter if she accepted it or not, in the end she would have to be un-quickened. The people were more important than her, and that was something that always lingering in the back of his mind always crawling out of the crevices and corrupting his thoughts with nightmares of losing her to himself. “Can I think about it, at least for a few days?” she said. He could at least give her that, some time.

They would stay in the ruin; it seemed a waste of power and energy to travel back through the eluvinan. The walls crept like foreign shadows on Fen’Harel’s shoulder. Each wall was another reminder of his betrayal and any past mistakes he had made. He was at peace that Ara had not asked any questions about the room. Perhaps she already knew that it belonged to Fen’Harel and she did not wish to impede with further questions that might arouse fury in his heart. She did however, explore around with her eyes; Fen’Harel would still not let her touch any of the ruins. Her curiosity still so fresh, he wished that he could still have such a thing. After living for eternity, he had come to realize that most things did not surprise him any longer, nigh pique his curiosity. Ara was the only exception of this rule.

The two elves spend much of the day exploring the old ruin. Too many memories lingered there, but Fen’Harel had to prevail. Ara had developed a keen interest in asking about every little thing that was in the ruins. Not to say that Fen’Harel was getting tired of answering the questions, but he needed a break from the constant prodding.

“If it is truly information you desire, how about we direct our attention to what we initially came her for.” He said, rightfully earning him a frown and silence that broke his heart. Ara went along, feet light and barely touching the ground. She searched every crevice of the ruin but her efforts were futile. Fen’Harel had no better luck, it seems as though they would have to find another temple of the ancient gods, perhaps there was still a foci lingering about. Mythal; that was the place to start. “Do you wish to see the temple of another goddess you have met?”


	10. The Kind that Lead You Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thinggsss change for the worst :)))))

This temple was far more intact than his own. Most of the architecture was still holding up allowing the average person who looked upon it the ability to clearly see it belonged to Mythal. The people had always treated the goddess in high regards it was odd seeing the ruin so disheveled. Ara was even more enthralled, being that this was the temple of the goddess who once was marked upon her face. She was content that Fen’Harel had actually let her touch things inside the ruins, unlike the former one.

Even though the experience of being in such a ruin was old hat to him, Ara was excessively excited to learn more about the elves past; her past. It felt unreal that she had met an ancient elven god (let alone two), and now she was in the presence of where she once would have resided.

Fen’Harel was rummaging through the debris left behind from the age that had destroyed the temple. He was different now. His guard was down, but he was still the analytical man that Ara knew. She decided to help with the search for another foci after realizing that Fen’Harel had no interest in discussing the elves of Arlathan, which came as a surprise to her. Ara browsed through foliage and under crumbling rock but she could find nothing.

One of the trees from the forest had grown deep roots into the soil, so much so that it ruptured the rock wall that once held the temple of Mythal. The roots not only were tangled around the structural rock, but they also curved around an object. There was a knot of roots that seemed out of place compared to the rest of them so Ara decided to look closer. She summoned a ball of light in her hand and slowly waved it across the mishapened branches. This had to be the foci Fen’Harel was searching for. “Sa’lath, I believe I found it.” Fen’Harel could not get up from his crouch fast enough.

His face was not bright like ones usually are when they have found something, but it was a foreboding smile that drew across his face. Ara gestured to the lump of roots all the while shining light into its crevices. With a quick flip of his fingers, Fen’Harel had managed to destroy the roots while keeping the artifact they were containing intact. Ara reached out to grab the orb, but soon found herself in a state of paralysis. She moved her eyes to see what was happening. Fen’Harel looked down on her, now with the orb in his hands. He snapped his fingers and Ara could feel the rush of control he had given her back. “Now what was that for?” Fen’Harel laughed, one of the few things Ara heard but loved so deeply.

“Remember what happened last time you touched such an orb? Would it be wise to repeat it again?” He had a point, and Ara did not wish to argue. He had already begun work on unlocking the orb and his full concentration was centered on the ancient sphere.

Ara watched as green streams of mana escaped the foci and absorbed into Fen’Harel’s fingertips. He knew how to control such powerful magic, she was certainly glad she hadn’t touched it. After a few minutes, Ara became royally bored so she decided to explore the temple further. She thought about Abelas and all of the other ancient elves. What if she decided to become like them; un-quickened? Fen’Harel obviously thought it was a good idea, but living for eternity seemed like a burden Ara did not want to bear. She was certainly open and free to change, as she had no doubt demonstrated in her removal or herself from her Dalish roots, but this was different. There were positives and negatives that still needed to be considered and it was not going to take just a few hours to come to a consensus.

Ara directed her concentration back to Fen’Harel only to see that he was still trying to unlock the orbs power. With that, Ara decided to explore farther into the ruins. Hopefully he had seen the direction she went otherwise he was going to be very worried and very upset when he realized she was gone.

Nonetheless, Ara still pushed further into the dark ruins, a ball of light as well as veilfire were the only sources of lighting in the dark temple, The mosaics that she had seen in the temple where Ablelas and the other ancient elves that served Mythal had been were not in good condition comparatively. Sure, she could make out that one of them was Falon’din and another Andruil, but the others were hardly distinguishable. She pressed her palm against one of the golden mosaic pieces, and suddenly a flood of light drowned her.

Taken aback, Ara found herself on the stone ground, only this time it was warm with use. Her surroundings were no longer recognizable and the scent of the location was also different. A tall elf with silky brown hair, braided and draped down one side of his head came towards her. Unsure who he was Ara inquisitively guessed it was Solas-err-Fen’Harel. She said his name, even though it was more of a question than a statement.

The elf laughed, his voice was unlike Fen’Harel’s which thus made Ara even more confused than she was before. “Ah, isn’t this delightful,” he said factiously and a grin pulled taut across his face. “A shemlen who claims they know the betrayer of the ancient elven gods when they see him. Tell me, what is your name?” Ara thought carefully before analyzing, this was— _had_ —to be a dream, so why would telling him the truth make any difference. “Emma’Ara, lethallin.” The unfamiliar elf had wandered uncomfortably close to her now; his grin had not ceased to dissipate.

“The tongue so fluently from a shemlen, how interesting.” He took a moment to analyze her body now, gently picking up her arms and eyeing their structure and continued down from her torso to her feet. “Dear Journey, do you know who I am?” Ara shook her head and tried to escape the grasp the elf still had around her wrists, but her efforts were futile. “Elgar’nan, you recognize me now mortal?” She was still not conceptualizing the dream and questioned why her thoughts would even lean towards the God of Vengeance, there had to be a connection somehow. His gaze was softer on her face now, and his grasp around her wrists had loosened allowing Ara to slip out.

“Do you know how you got here?”

It now occurred to Ara that this was to sophisticated, too _real_ to be a dream. Somehow she managed to open a portal and now found herself in the company of yet another elven god. Her first thoughts were that Fen’Harel was going to be angry when she got back, more importantly, if she got back.

The All-Father stood before her in a magnitude that was radiating with cockiness and egotism.  He surely was going to use her as a bargaining piece, a pawn. She played her cards well, not revealing anything that would put her in a position so that another chess piece could take her. Ara admitted that she did not know how she got there, although she could have easily theorized possible situations. She also _failed_ to mention her association with Fen’Harel. Even if Elgar’nan had already knew, it did her no due favor to bring up the topic.

“Now I am sure one, as pitiful as yourself, would want to get back to your original location, but I find myself in the same position. A favor for a favor?” Ara could hear Fen’Harel’s disapproving sighs in the back of her head, “What do I need to do?” she said rolling her eyes. “What do you know of me?’ Elgar’nan asked. Unable to respond quick enough, Ara was interrupted by the god once more, “And not the little tales the pathetic Dalish tell. I want to know what _he_ has told you.” The words cut into Ara, she had to calm herself so that her magic wouldn’t burst out of her hands.

She could tell Elgar’nan the truth, that Fen’Harel had in fact told her nothing about him let alone the other gods (with the exception of Mythal), or she could formulate a clever lie. Ara was nowhere near as good as lying as her lover was, but she did pick up a few of his tricks that were enough to fool common folk as well as the better educated.  But it was all academic, she was trying to fool a god who already knew she had every right to lie, thus he was expecting it. She convinced herself to tell him the truth although it did the god no pleasure. “So, my dearest friend does not discuss my nature even to his closest accomplices,” Elgar’nan said gritting his teeth. The next words that he said were not for Ara to hear, even though it caused her no strain to hear them.

“How very like you, wolf” the god said under his breath.

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyy feel free to correct any mistakes that I might have glossed over. Hope you enjoyed it we shall see how this goes for her....


End file.
